Karlach wasn't the cutest girl that Ciri had met since coming to this world, her 'Heart certainly held that particular honor, but she was far from unattractive and she was definitely the most pleasant person that she had managed to collect. Cheerful, bright-eyed and energetic, full of a love for life that even having a illithid tadpole burrowed into her brain couldn't dampen. Then again, Ciri could understand that, given she had spent the last decade as a slave-soldier of a devil -an archdevil- fighting in a literally Hellish war. Of course, the fact that 'Heart held a special place in Ciri's heart certainly didn't meant that she didn't notice how lovely the crimson-skinned axe-mistress was, and she had rather firmly agreed with her Cleric companion's estimation of her physical prowess. Though, Ciri had to admit, she was less interested in being thrown over a shoulder and carried to safety than she was in fighting side by side with someone, which was much more romantic to her mind.
She was also, though Ciri felt somewhat guilty for the thought, a fantastic foil for Gale and 'Heart. She was too damned friendly and happy for the two to be able to bring her mood down with their typical sniping. Of course, that was also somewhat concerning, because she somehow doubted that the two of them were going to become bosom friends just because of the crimson-skinned girl, and that could lead to things building up to an explosive point.
Of course, Lae'zel had no qualms whatsoever in continuing to be a pain in the ass when it came to her attitude and her arrogance, but at least she was starting to mellow out on other fronts. Evidently, the events of the last few days had been sufficient to convince that prickly extra-planar woman that her companions-by-circumstance were at least competent fighters and worthy of -if not respect- at least acknowledgement. And Karlach, for all that their personalities clashes, certainly had the experience and ability required as well.
Unfortunately, as balance was required in all things, saving Karlach and having her party's mood improve as a result had to be met by something bad.
"Stop." she announced suddenly, an hour into their efforts of scouting out the shoreline and the rolling hills (and, for that matter, the rubble and wreckage of the nautiloid, which was spread over a much larger area than Ciri had imagined) for the goblin camp.
Well acquainted with her instincts and her senses, Gale and Shadowheart were ready for a fight in an instant, scanning the world around them as they looked for whatever it was that had caught her attention. Karlach and Lae'zel weren't far behind, and their tension ratcheted up a notch when their silver-haired leader -which Ciri most certainly was, for all the informality of that particular matter, and everyone knew it- remained silent but grew even more intent.
"Fire and blood. There's a fight going on nearby." she murmured to herself after nearly a full minute, eyes narrowing, and she pointed to their north-east definitively. "What's in that direction?"
"Based on what those refugees told us, a large inn and wayhouse called Waukeen's Rest. They sought shelter there but were turned away by the Flaming Fists. A mixture of blame for The Descent Into Avernus earlier this year and the fact that a powerful man was staying there on his way home. Ravengard, I believe his name was." 'Heart responded promptly, and Gale scoffed softly, not quite managing to keep the contempt out of his voice.
"Grand Duke Ravengard is the Supreme Marshall of the Flaming Fist, the primary military and police force of Baldur's Gate. The man is a war-hero, and he was in Elturel when Zariel dragged it into the Hells. He must be making his way back to The Gate." he nearly sneered, before his eyes widened and his skin whitened. "Gods, Ciri! Did you say you smelled fire and blood? Someone must be attacking The Rest! We can't let them kill the Grand Duke, not if there is an ilithid invasion and a goblin war-band rampaging through the east!"
"…fuck." Ciri hissed, before grabbing her 'Heart -the lithe half-elven girl giving an exclamation of surprise that was more squeak than yelp- and pulling her into a princess carry. "We'll go ahead, see what we can do. Catch up as quickly as you can, but be careful. If it's the goblins, who knows what kind of traps they'll scatter around to catch anyone trying to escape or help."
She and her cargo -no, passenger, that sounded better- were gone in a swirl of magic before anyone could say anything else, reappearing on the top of the tallest rock-face in sight. One that provided them with an uninhibited view of what was going on. Waukeen's Rest -a large complex, to be sure, able to house a hundred people and possessing it's own walls and gates, which made sense in the middle of the wilderness- was most certainly under attack by goblins. Alot of goblins, and while they were too far away to see anything clear or specific, it was obvious that the defenders were both fighting fiercely and being overwhelmed. Several outbuildings were on fire, and if this went on too much longer it was quite likely the entire complex -and everyone in it- would be ashes before long. There was nothing else for it.
"You with me, 'Heart?" she asked softly, feeling a bit guilty for basically vanishing the girl away from the safety of the group without asking, but the girl in her arms just smiled up at her, a hint of wryness in her eyes.
"Always, Ciri." she returned sincerely, and Ciri grinned at her before fixing her case on a clear spot in the distant courtyard and calling on her magic once again. An instant later, they were standing on the cobblestone battlefield, 'Heart was on her own two feet and hurling a bolt of shimmering golden light at a slavering wolf-bear creature, and Ciri was incinerating a pair of howling, scimitar wielding goblins that had taken immediate offense to her existence. The fight was on, and she drew her sword with a sense of excitement that was, perhaps, inappropriate under the circumstances. Laying eyes on a new target, she frowned as she realized this was an all-new sort of enemy. Elven, but with slate-gray skin and hair as pale as her own, wearing formfitting black armor of a make she didn't recognize. He also seemed to be some sort of authority, given the way he was bellowing orders at the goblins, and a deadly threat given the three armored humans at his feet, the flaming fist on their tabards just barely visibly underneath the blood spatters. Darting forward, her blade flicking out like a viper, she attacked, only to swear softly and be forced to shield herself with Quen as he dodged the blow with a flexible agility that frankly shouldn't be possible for someone of his size and build, a small gout of magical flame pouring from his free hand towards her face. The flames washed over her magical shield, a translucent sheen buffeted by orange-red danger, and she backed off a step to reassess.
"Interloper! You should have stayed in hiding, girl!" he growled, before giving her a less-than-subtle once over and grinning with lust-edged cruelty. "But I'm glad you and that friend of yours didn't. I wore out my last toys a week ago, I've been looking for replacements. You'll suit me nicely." he leered, before laughing and batting away her next three sword-strikes with a concerning amount of ease. "Fiery! Good, put up a fight, it's so much more enjoyable that way. You remind me of a Whore-Cleric I had once, sworn to some over-dweller slut-goddess. Oh how she prayed for salvation as I ruined her! It took her months to break. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she realized her goddess wasn't going to save her. It was exquisite."
"Oh, what a surprise, the bandit raider is also a psychopathic rapist and slaver. Never heard that one before. What's next, you start monologuing about all of the depraved sexual acts you're going to perform on me? Don't pay a herald just yet, because I can guarantee you I've heard it all before." Ciri rolled her eyes, almost as bored as she sounded, meaning every word. She'd lived through more than one sacking, after all, and it wasn't like that was the only thing that had happened in her life. Hell, the whole reason she was even in this world to begin with was because two separate groups of people were desperately trying to fuck a baby into her, so that they could further their plans for world conquest to boot.
The man seemed briefly robbed of speech, either from confusion or fury -Ciri would put her money on both- by her flippant response and distinctive lack of fear. He probably wasn't used to that sort of reaction, and she would almost pity him if it wasn't for the fact that he was a monster she planned on killing as soon as possible.
"You have a foul mouth for one so pretty, girl." he hissed finally, attempting to regain his composure as he lunged forward with a vicious thrust of his blade. "I'll enjoy teaching you proper respect."
Ciri sidestepped the attack with practiced ease, her sword flashing in the dancing glow of the firelight as she countered. "Better fighters than you have tried. They're all dead now, wishing that they were at best. Also, cliche."
From the corner of her eye, she could see Shadowheart holding her own against three goblins, her mace crackling with divine energy as she smashed one's skull and spun to face the others. The cleric's movements were fluid and precise, and Ciri felt a surge of pride watching her fight. She knew that melee combat was far from her friend's greatest talent, but she was doing well, and it seemed that the defenders were starting to rally around the pair of them. Something the dark-skinned elf seemed acutely aware of, judging by his expression. He wasn't stupid, either, smart enough to realize that he could just as easily break the defenders by targeting the source of their increased courage and coordination. He was also smart enough to recognize that the cleric was a much easier target than Ciri was.
Another gout of flame forced her to shield herself, and in the same heartbeat he took advantage of her imposed immobility to disengage. His intent had been clear from the expression on his face, but it only became more obvious as he ignored everything and everyone separating him from Shadowheart. Worse still, whether by bad luck or strategic forethought, Ciri found herself fending off a hulking brute of a creature -a bugbear, something whispered in the back of her mind, an errant and absent thought that came and went before she was truly aware of it- wielding a morningstar with rather more deftness than it's bulk would at first indicate was possible.
Shadowheart turned at the cry of her name, her eyes widening as she saw the dusky man charging towards her with frightening alacrity, saw Ciri battling desperately to dispatch her opponent and come to her aid, her breath catching in her throat as she realized that the ashen-haired witcher wasn't going to reach her in time. That she was on her own against a deadly opponent. Then her expression twisted into a firm grimace as she settled into her stance, raising her mace high with a shout, a flash of golden flames striking down on her attacker. He yowled in pain and fury as his skin and clothes smoldered, holy fire burning flesh and fabric alike, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Nor was her shield, battered and made of simple -if strong- wood, sufficient to do anything more than blunt his attack as her lashed out with magic of his own. Shadowheart whimpered and hissed as the flames licked over and around the edges of her protection, before swearing and tossing it aside as the fire clung to it, quickly crawling across it's surface and making it too dangerous to keep holding. Armed only with her mace, now, and protected only by a light chain shirt, she was immensely vulnerable.
Which is why it seemed a blessing from the gods that someone else intercepted the elf before he could reach her. A trio of crimson bolts, small and compact like the bullets from a sling, slammed into the man's side, sending him reeling, and booted feet pounded as a dusky-skinned man skidded to a halt in front of the downed cleric.
"Damnable drow. Provoke The Blade, and you will suffer it's sting!" he declared, brandishing the blade confidently, and the drow stared at him for a moment before giving an odd sort of cackling laugh.
"Well, if it isn't the disgraced bastard himself! The outcast ranger, ever wandering the wilds of the world, desperately seeking the one, great, heroic act that will force your father to acknowledge you as his son in name as well as blood! Hoping to catch a glimpse of the Grand Duke, were you?" he mocked, and the man's eyes narrowed and darkened swiftly in response.
"What would a drider-spawned wretch like you know about my father?" he retorted, earning a snarl of wrath and a pair of small fireballs in response, both of which were deftly avoided with little effort, and Ciri couldn't help but feel impressed as she almost absent-mindedly melted her current opponent's hands to the hilt of his weapon, stabbing him in the throat as he shrieked in agony. Whoever this guy was, he knew what he was doing.
"Oh, haven't you noticed? He seems to have wandered off during the fighting! Such a shame for Baldur's Gate, to lose it's great protector in such a time of upheaval!" the drow cackled again, eyes bright with cruel delight as the man's eyes widened in dawning shock and horror. Squaring up to his opponent, he continued. "I, Sszaryn, devoted servant of The Absolute, will be rewarded greatly by my goddess for delivering Ravengard into her hands!"
Ciri's eyes narrowed as she dispatched another goblin with casual efficiency, mind racing. Ravengard captured rather than killed? That suggested something far more sinister than a simple raid, even one where an opportunity had presented itself and been swiftly taken. In fact, the way that the drow said it made it seems as though Ravengard had been the target of the entire attack, and that was frightening. It meant that these goblins were far more than mere bandits stalking the fringes of society. Her attention snapped back to the unfolding confrontation, where the newcomer—Ravengard's bastard son, it seemed—had shifted his stance, fury evident in every line of his body.
"You lie, drow!" he spat, though doubt flickered across his features, and his eyes flickered around at the battling Flaming Fist members anxiously. "My father would not be taken so easily. He has bested more goblin raids than you have years of life!"
"Oh, but he was taken, boy. He tried to fight, oh yes, but an old man exhausted from escaping the Hells themselves is an easy hunt for the devoted." Sszaryn taunted, circling slowly. "The Absolute has plans for him, grand plans. As for you and the rest of the non-believers here... well, you're merely an amusing diversion."
Shadowheart had regained her footing, breathing heavily but with determination burning in her eyes, the now-familiar golden light of healing magic rippling across her body. She caught Ciri's gaze across the courtyard and gave a slight nod—she was tired and sore, but still in the fight, and Ciri felt a throb of relief. A throb that grew ever stronger at the sound of Gale's familiar voice, shouting an incantation that was promptly followed by the hoarse screams of fatal agony from goblin throats. Reinforcements were here, thank the gods. Which meant that they didn't need to worry about killing this guy just yet, which meant that they could try and keep him talking. Rolling her wrist in a universally-understood gesture and mouthing the words to 'Heart encouraging her to do just that, Ciri kept her eyes on her surroundings and her ears on him.
"This 'Absolute' of yours must not be much of a goddess if we've never heard of her. And what sort of name is The Absolute, anyway? It sounds like the sort of name children at play would come up with, just to make themselves sound like the strongest despite being the weakest." the raven-haired half-elf mocked lightly, stepping up just behind the ranger and lightly touching his back with her free hand, hidden as it was by the bulk of his body.
A flicker of golden light passed from her fingers to his body, and the ranger straightened slightly, his muscles relaxing minutely as the healing energy flowed through him. Ciri smiled to herself, appreciating 'Heart's quick thinking—bolstering their new ally while simultaneously drawing out information from their enemy.
Sszaryn's red eyes narrowed at the taunt, a sneer curling his lips. "Mock all you wish, Sharran. The Absolute is power incarnate, rising to remake this pathetic world. Her gifts have already transformed our humble band into a force that strikes fear into the hearts of merchants and soldiers alike." He gestured broadly at the chaos around them. "This is merely the beginning. The world will tremble before Her will, be remade in the image She most desires of it. None can stand before it. Not here, not in Baldur's Gate, nor in any other land and nation of Faerun! Your gods will…"
"I care nothing for your mad cult or your delusions of grandeur. Where is my father? Tell me, and I will spare your life." the ranger snapped, cutting off the fanatic's ranting, and Ciri rolled her eyes to herself as she incinerated a goblin that was trying to finish off a downed Fist, buying the woman's comrades enough time to reach her and drag her to safety. Threatening fanatics with death was always a fruitless endeavor, they were always willing -even eager- to die for the sake of their cause, even more so if they believed it was a divinely-appointed one like Sszaryn clearly did.
And sure enough, the grey-skinned elf just laughed, the sound of it grating and unpleasant even to Ciri's ears. Something she wouldn't have thought was possible, given all the shit she had seen and heard over the course of her life so far, but it seemed that there was, in fact, always something worse.
"The Bastard of Baldur's Gate, threatening me! You couldn't even gain entrance to your father's city guard, couldn't be trusted to fight cutpurses and wife-beaters, but you think yourself a grand hero?!" he taunted, and Ciri had to admit that he was good at it, because the ranger snarled with rage and lunged forward, his blade whipping out in a deadly arc that the drow only just managed to avoid. His counterattack was swift and vicious, a dagger appearing in his left hand seemingly from nowhere, but the ranger was no stranger to combat either, his own blade coming up to parry the strike with a ringing clash of steel on steel. Unfortunately for him, the drow wasn't interested in playing fair, because the next thing he did was step in close and plant his knee in the ranger's groin with a meaty thump that had Ciri grimacing in theoretical sympathy.
As the ranger crumpled, gasping for breath and from pain, Sszaryn raised his blade for a killing blow, an expression of sadistic delight that made him look nothing short of demented creasing his face. Ciri didn't hesitate. In a flash of pale light, she blinked across the courtyard, her sword intercepting the drow's strike with such force that sparks scattered across the stone.
"Not today, fucker." she growled, pressing forward with a flurry of strikes that drove the drow back several paces. His eyes widened in surprise at her speed, at the unexpected resistance. He had thought he had her measure in their first clash, but had failed to consider that she was both off balance and trying to take his measure lest she risk over-committing.
"What manner of creature are you?" he hissed, barely deflecting a thrust that would have pierced his throat, tension in his face and fear in his eyes at the marked increase in the danger that she posed to him.
Ciri smiled coldly. "The kind meant to kill monsters, and it seems to me that you qualify quite well on that score."
She could hear movement and voices behind her, 'Heart helping the duke's son to his feet from the sound of things, and she allowed her eyes to flicker to the side for a moment as a black-clad, crimson-skinned form barreled into view at the far end of the plaza. A particularly unlucky goblin that got in her way went tumbling away like a ragdoll as Karlach slammed into him, drawing her axe as she skidded to a halt next to one of his allies and burying the weapon's blade it the second goblin's skull.
The drow made the mistake of glancing away from her to see if he was about to be fighting a two-front battle, and it cost him his life, as Ciri took the opportunity to vanish in a flicker of magic. Half a heartbeat later, when his eyes landed on where she had been again, she had just finished re-coalescing behind him. Blade pierced flesh and he gave a choked, wet gasping gag as the bloody tip of her sword emerged from his chest just beside his heart. Half a heartbeat after that, she was standing over his collapsed corpse.
Taking a moment to look around, she smiled through the sweat streaking her face as she saw that the last handful of attackers were with being wrestled to the ground and bound, or killed outright. Her smile broadened even further as she saw Gale clamber onto a nearby roof and shout a word that thundered through the air, summoning a freezing rain that plunged down onto the burning buildings that made up the complex. Steam billowed, and the hissing sound of cold water and hot fire made was almost painfully loud despite how relieving it was to hear, but the effects were immediately obvious.
The fires were dying down, their furious heat being smothered by Gale's spell, and the defenders were already bellowing at one another to start pulling survivors from the ruins and wreckage. Cleaning her blade and resheathing it, Ciri took a look around and frowned, wondering what it was that she could do to best help.
"My father... they've taken my father…" the ranger muttered before she could actually come to a decision, still doubled over but recovering under Shadowheart's attentions. His eyes were locked on the slain drow, a mixture of rage and despair etched across his features.
"We'll find him, and we'll find where these scum came from as well." Ciri said, her voice carrying a certainty she didn't entirely feel. "But first, introductions. I'm Ciri. The woman healing you is Shadowheart. Our friends—" she gestured toward Karlach, who was cleaning goblin guts off of her axe and humming happily to herself, flames flickering through her hair and crawling around her hands, then to Lae'zel, who had her nose up in the air yet again. "are Karlach and Lae'zel, and the mage up on the roof is Gale."
"Nnh, I thank you for the healing, and well met. Wyll, Blade of the Frontiers. Bastard son of Grand Duke Ravengard, as you might have surmised, here in the hopes of meeting him, warn him about the goblin war parties that have sprung up since he disappeared in Elturel. Unfortunately…" he finally straightened up, gesturing to the destruction around them. "The goblins and their drow friend got here first. Whatever the Cult of the Absolute wants with him, it cannot possibly be good."
"The boy's right." a dark skinned elven woman -beautiful, slender, and regrettably smelling of fire and smoke- limped up to them, her gold-trimmed purple dress singed badly. Nodding to the group at large, she continued. "Counsellor Florrick, second in command to Grand Duke Ravengard, here to meet him and escort him the rest of the way to Baldur's Gate. You have my thanks for your intervention, all of you. If you had arrived so much as ten or fifteen minutes later, most of my boys and girls would be dead, alongside the majority of the civilians. I'd probably still be trapped in my room, burning to a crisp and praying the smoke would kill me before the fire did."
"Glad we could be of service," Ciri replied, inclining her head respectfully, dredging up past memories of princess-hood and putting them to use. "Do you know anything about this 'Absolute' the drow mentioned? It seems like we're dealing with more than just random goblin raids, if they're organized enough to target specific and valuable targets like Ravengard."
Florrick's expression darkened as she shook her head firmly. "Nothing concrete. Rumors have been reaching the Gate for weeks now, of course. Whispers of a new cult rising in the east, drawing goblinoids and all manner of other undesirable elements to it's banner. Some sort of deity promising power to those who serve, sending people dreams and speaking to their minds. We dismissed it as typical frontier nonsense, another wizard with delusions of grandeur or some such. It happens every few years in the hinterlands." Her eyes drifted to the drow's corpse. "Clearly, assuming that it was business as usual was a grave mistake."
"Could they be in league with the devils? The Grand Duke was traveling this road to reach the gate after escaping Avernus, wasn't he? Seems like a bit of a coincidence that they'd be waiting for him, doesn't it? This 'Absolute' could be a demon or some such?" Gale, recently returned to the group after climbing hither and yon to work his spells, proposed, but Karlach shook her head in immediate denial.
"Not a chance, mate. Anyone in the Hells that called themselves that would get dead quick." she explained, folding her arms beneath her breasts -a very nice pair, Ciri had noted before, noted now, and doubtlessly would note again- with the effect of pushing them up a bit as she frowned. "Seems too organized for some random would-be tyrant though. There must be more to it than that, I agree with Florrick."
"We waste time speculating. Let us find these goblins, hunt down their leaders, and make them bleed until they tell us what we wish to know." Lae'zel growled discontentedly, drumming her fingers on the hilt of her sheathed sword. "Time is short, already we have too many tasks before us. Let us go."
"The gith is right, Ciri. The Fists should escort the survivors to the Grove and wait there for us to return." Shadowheart added, and Gale nodded with a faint grimace of distaste, clearly unhappy to be siding with either of them.
"I have to agree, and I'm afraid that I'll be having to return with them. I've burnt through all of the mana I have access too at the moment, and until I get some time to rest and rejuvenate, I'm utterly useless to you." he agreed and confessed in the same breath, and Ciri growled softly under her breath, thinking quickly. They couldn't afford to wait too long, and unlike 'Heart, Gale's ability to fight without magic was essentially none existent.
"Alright. Gale, I want you, Karlach, and Wyll to help search and salvage this place, then lead everyone back to the grove." she ordered. When Wyll opened his mouth to protest, she sharply raised a hand and pinned him with a stare. "You're emotionally compromised, Wyll. I don't blame you for it, I understand it even, but you are. We're scouting things out, and that means we have to be quiet and unnoticed. I don't know that you can do that right now. I'm sorry, but you need to go back."
The ranger's jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides, but after a moment he gave a stiff nod. "You... make a fair point. I'll escort the survivors back to the grove, but I want your word that you'll bring me any information you find about my father. And that you'll bring me with you when you attack wherever they're holding him. Do I have your vow?"
"You have it, Wyll." Ciri promised, then turned to Gale, smiling at him. "Keep an eye on him, will you? And take care of yourself as well. We'll need you at full strength soon enough. Something tells me that we'll need more than a few swords and bows to storm wherever these things are hiding."
The wizard bowed with a flamboyant, courtly flourish. "I shall be the very picture of vigilance and recovery, I assure you, and preparedness shortly thereafter. Do try not to get yourselves killed in my absence. It would be terribly inconsiderate of you."
Karlach gave Ciri's shoulder a squeeze, her palm warm but not uncomfortably hot. "Be careful out there, soldier. There's a lot of dangerous things running around these hills, it looks like. I'd had to lose you so soon after finding you."
"Don't worry about me, Karlach." Ciri replied with a smile, patting Karlach's hand. "I've survived worse situations, and I'm not alone either. Just make sure everyone gets to safety, then keep them there."
Karlach grinned, flames briefly dancing along her hairline. "Will do, boss. You can count on me."
As the tiefling moved off to help organize the survivors and salvage what could be salvaged, Ciri turned to Shadowheart and Lae'zel. "Ready to hunt some goblins?"
"Kill filthy beasts like that? Always. Save our souls all the faster? Better still." Lae'zel responded briskly, promptly starting to walk away, leaving without so much as a nod to the rest of the group, never mind a verbal farewell.
Shadowheart nodded, adjusting her bloodied mace on it's belt-strap. "The sooner we deal with this, the sooner we can focus on our... other problem." She tapped her temple meaningfully, referring subtly but clearly to the tadpoles currently lurking inside of their brains, and Ciri's smile tightened into something not dissimilar to a grimace. She really rather wished she could ignore the reminder, but she couldn't. All she could do was press on, keep her companions pressing on, and do whatever could be done.
"Come on then, girls. We've work to do." she sighed, leading the way away from the smoldering ruins of Waukeen's Rest, back into the wilderness, hoping that she was making the right choices. And hoping that people wouldn't regret following her instructions in the effort.